


Of Giving Up

by orphan_account



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, Generally Upsetting, If You Squint - Freeform, Kinda, NSFW, Smoking, death mention, dont yell at me im really depressed rn, if you made it through heathers youll make it through this, im bad at tagging, im sorry, im sorry i have a yucky sexual past, let a man project, moderately violent, musical/movie crossover, non con too how did i forget that, theres blood, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Somewhere, Westerburg high's quarterback and linebacker rested with bullets lodged in their skin. Bullets they had placed.Six feet under, in the church's graveyard, was the former leader of the bitch brigade with Drain-o staining the corners of her mouth.They were dead.





	Of Giving Up

**Author's Note:**

> lifes rough and i really just needed to Vent It Out (tm) so heres this dont kill me

She could feel cold hands running down her thighs. 

She didn't want them there. 

"C'mon, princess, what's wrong?" his voice was snide and she hated it- she hated him. 

Her head turned and through strands of her dark hair she could see him grinning. This wasn't who she was in love with. 

This was a monster. 

JD's nails were sinking in to the back of her thighs and she whimpered in pain. Tears streamed from her eyes but he didn't seem to take notice. 

Something sticky trailed from where his fingers burned her flesh down towards the back of her skirt, and she watched hazily as he pulled a hand away and licked crimson off of it. 

She didn't want this. 

He gave her thigh a sharp tug towards him and her breath hitched. Her reactions were involuntary. He didn't care. 

"Ronnie, baby, why so dull? Where's my dead girl walking, hm?" his mouth was against her ear now and she shivered. 

His lips shoved against hers and she could taste the iron of her blood and the tobacco of his cigarette that lay, still burning, beside them. 

JD's lips moved, and when she didn't respond a nail found its way into her neck. She whined in pain, and he grunted in satisfaction before shoving his tongue into her mouth. 

Her mind reeled. She felt sick to her stomach. 

Somewhere, Westerburg high's quarterback and linebacker rested with bullets lodged in their skin. Bullets they had placed. 

Six feet under, in the church's graveyard, was the former leader of the bitch brigade with Drain-o staining the corners of her mouth. 

They were dead. 

They were dead and it was her fault. 

She stopped fighting JD. She let him get what he wanted in the back seat of her car. 

Veronica Sawyer was dating a murderer, and she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it.


End file.
